Iron and Steel
by Misty Reeyus
Summary: But fuck her, Alisha is radiant. She's so trusting, she asked for Rose to do this, and she's managed to worm her way so deeply into Rose's affections that there's no way Rose would ever be able to seriously hurt her. Or at least, no more seriously than Alisha wants to be hurt. [Rose/Alisha, smut, bloodplay and knifeplay]


Anime-verse, in that it's inspired by and contains vague references to the events of episode 10

* * *

"I could kill you, you know."

Rose can barely hear herself say it, what with the way her heart pounds like symphony drums in her ears. Even so, she projects the perfect picture of superiority and control as she straddles her completely naked captive down onto the mattress, the point of her dagger placed carefully up against Alisha's throat.

"Right here, right now," Rose murmurs, almost a threat. She applies the slightest pressure, and watches as a beautiful bead of red wells amidst pale, flawless skin. "It'd be so _easy_."

Alisha groans beneath her, throat bobbing slightly as she swallows. Rose eases back on the force but doesn't let the blade leave her skin, and Alisha inhales slowly through her nose. It's impressive, how she manages to keep so still while completely unbound, how the muscles in her neck scarcely move even as she opens her mouth to speak.

"You won't." It's a whisper, breathy and quiet, yet the words ring in Rose's ears like the lingering clang of a gong—and when she meets Alisha's eyes, vibrant green shines like steel back at her. "I trust you, Rose."

Rose just scoffs, even as Alisha's sheer conviction makes something weirdly warm bloom in her chest. "Your funeral, princess."

But fuck her, Alisha is radiant. She's so trusting, she _asked_ for Rose to do this, and she's managed to worm her way so deeply into Rose's affections that there's no way Rose would ever be able to seriously hurt her.

Or at least, no more seriously than Alisha _wants_ to be hurt.

The bead at Alisha's throat has since settled into something of a minuscule red puddle, and Rose slowly slides the dagger's tip in a shallow line down to Alisha's clavicle—skimming, grazing, just barely drawing another few drops worth of blood before the blade finally withdraws. Alisha gasps, more surprised than pained, and Rose quickly bends down to lap at the skin, savoring the slight metallic tang that sparks over her tongue.

Alisha shivers oh so slightly beneath her, and Rose pulls away grinning.

She twirls the dagger between her fingers with a practiced flourish—quick and messy finishing blows may be Rose's specialty, but that doesn't mean she can't also do the artsy, delicate stuff. She feels at home with a blade in her grasp, and she's more than capable of keeping her hand steady even when her heart is a storm. So Rose strikes before Alisha even has the chance to realize it: a swift, clean line underneath her breasts, that stretches the entire width of her chest.

Rose glances at her face in search of a reaction—Alisha grits her teeth and takes in a hissing breath, definitely in pain this time. But she voices no protest and she doesn't even try to flinch away, still so open, still so inviting. The shallow wound starts to bleed, and as Rose bends down for another taste, Alisha arches all too eagerly into the embrace of Rose's mouth.

Rose licks a slow, wet path, starting from the cut and winding up Alisha's right breast. Red smears in her wake all the way up to the pinkish-brown nub, where Rose purposefully scrapes her teeth, and Alisha instantly goes tense. Rose bites down gently, delighting in how that actually makes Alisha _squeal_ , then replaces her teeth with the mercilessly pinching fingers of her left hand as she pulls back.

Her right hand, her dagger hand, takes over where her very first slice left off, continuing slowly past the clavicle in a vertical slit down through the valley between Alisha's breasts. Rose continues rubbing her right nipple between her fingers, and as that makes Alisha fidget slightly, the steel digs just a smidge deeper into her flesh. Alisha's face contorts but her throaty moans sound equally as pleasured as they do pained, and Rose finishes by stopping her blade where it meets the horizontal slash she made earlier in a right angle.

Blood has already risen up in the space between the mounds, almost ready to overflow and start dribbling down Alisha's chest. Before that can happen, Rose greedily laps it up, like an animal feasting from a trough.

"Still with me?" Rose murmurs, once she's had her fill and the flow of blood has slowed.

Alisha can only nod weakly, apparently not in a state to vocalize her response.

"If you're sure." Rose shimmies down Alisha's body, taking note of the way her stomach trembles from strain. Another fanciful twirl of the dagger, and the sharp edge finds careful purchase in the bottom of Alisha's left rib cage. Rose angles the blade diagonally and eyes a spot just below her bellybutton.

"Better hold still," Rose warns, smacking Alisha's unsteady stomach with her open palm, "or you're gonna get it."

Alisha gives a shuddering breath that sounds almost like a laugh. "Maybe I _want_ to get it."

Rose snorts in astonishment. Still so ballsy, even with a professional assassin slicing up her skin.

No ordinary princess indeed.

But Alisha is clearly as ready as she'll ever be, so Rose makes quick work of carving the line she planned out, then tosses the dagger to her left hand so as to carve a symmetrical match on the other side. Alisha whimpers and whines the whole way, but other than some slight quivering, she manages to remain reasonably still. The result is a clean-cut, beautiful V—two spiderweb-thin lines of beading crimson that stretch down from each of her sides and converge at a point a few inches above the corner of her crotch.

Rose casually rotates the dagger so that the blunt edge of the blade caresses Alisha's side—harmless in actuality, but still distinctly threatening in sensation. Then, dipping down once more, Rose trails her tongue over the guiding lines, reveling in the way the taste of iron now also mixes with the salt of sweat as she ventures down: past the cute bellybutton, past the convergence point of blood, lower and lower and lower…

"Open up," Rose hisses into skin when she's at the crux, when Alisha's curls are brushing against her chin and the inside of her mouth tastes more of sweat than blood.

Alisha spreads her legs without even a moment's hesitance.

She's so wet already, practically dripping onto the mattress in her eagerness, and Rose chuckles to herself—who would have thought the _royal princess of Hyland_ would really get off from this sort of thing. With a sly smirk, Rose briefly swirls her tongue over Alisha's clit, appreciating the sticky and slightly bitter change in palate, before pulling away.

The dagger's blade comes down right where her mouth just was—still using the blunt side, and with not _nearly_ enough pressure to hurt. But even so, it gets Alisha to let loose her loudest screech yet.

Rose snickers and, after another few seconds of letting Alisha tremble from suspense, is struck with an idea. Pulling back the dagger, Rose flips it in her hand, mindful to firmly grasp the blade by the blunt edge as she presses the hilt—the smooth, wooden, decently-sized hilt—up against Alisha's entrance.

"R- _Rose_!" Alisha instantly shrieks her name, and it's loud, frantic, almost ear-splitting in pitch.

But when Rose glances up to meet Alisha's anticipatory gaze, she realizes that it's not a no.

So Rose is careful, very careful, as she slips the hilt inside Alisha. She really did pick the perfect dagger to use tonight; it glides in so easily, all the way up to the crossguard, and when Rose wriggles it just right, Alisha outright _spasms_ with ecstasy. Though she starts out slow, Rose quickly gains speed, plunging the hilt in and out, in and out, each thrust faster and rougher than the last, until she's settled into a rapid but steady rhythm that has Alisha bucking into her hand for more.

Rose's other hand reaches up to press her thumb down on Alisha's clit—and within seconds, Alisha's a goner, her screams ringing out amidst the sudden rush of fluid that coats Rose's hand. Tension visibly drains from Alisha's form and she sinks into the mattress, limp and gasping for breath, as Rose quietly pulls out and sits up straighter to fully behold the sight.

Alisha is always gorgeous, but there's something especially enthralling in seeing her rendered breathless, boneless, completely _undone_ —and knowing that Rose is the one who did that to her. The once immaculate expanse of pale skin is now flushed pink with pleasure, marred with the still-seeping wounds of smeared, congealing dark red. None of the injuries are serious, and a single apple gel should be more than enough to heal them over completely, but even so, Rose beams when she thinks that she has marked Alisha as _hers_.

Once Alisha regains her breath and some strength, she shakily pushes herself up until she's sitting on the mattress, at eye level with Rose. With a sudden, furious force, Alisha shoots out her arm, snatching Rose's dagger from her grasp and tossing it away so that it lands on the far corner of the mattress. Rose isn't about to protest and she doesn't get the chance to anyway—before she can react, Alisha fists a hand into the front of Rose's nightgown, yanking her in and smashing their lips together.

Apparently, reaching climax wasn't nearly enough to tire Alisha out. Her kiss is rough, demanding; her teeth nip fiercely at Rose's bottom lip, and Rose moans but doesn't even try to stop her. Rose _relishes_ it in fact, loves the way the slight pain and pleasure mix to make her go lightheaded with sensation—until Alisha, as if in recompense for all the blood spilled on Rose's part, bites down hard enough to make the taste of iron spurt over her tongue.

Rose gives a muffled yelp of shock against Alisha's mouth and quickly doubles back, thumbing at her own lip. She applies slight pressure and winces at the sting—yep, Alisha really did chew right on through.

"Owwwww! _God_!" Rose whines, but she's laughing even through the complaint. She shoots a mild glare but Alisha only smirks in response, licking her blood-stained lips and looking extremely pleased with herself. "Shit. You're fucking _vicious_ , princess."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Alisha giggles, then abruptly reaches for the back of Rose's head, pulling on hair, tugging her head backwards to expose her throat. Alisha angles her head and leans in to nibble at the vulnerable flesh, not hard enough to break skin—though she's sure Alisha _could_ if she really wanted to—but enough so that Rose is fluttering her eyes closed and humming contentedly as Alisha's chest presses up against her own…

"Ahhhh, wait wait wait!" Rose gasps suddenly, eyes flying open. "Time out!"

Alisha pulls away instantly, though she doesn't look happy about it, and Rose sighs. "Look, we can try your freaky biting kink later, okay? Right now, we gotta get cleaned up."

Alisha glances down at herself, and Rose sees the realization come to her face as she stares at the cuts lining her own body. They should really treat those soon; not to mention, both Rose's nightgown and the bedsheets are stained with red and will require vigorous scrubbing.

"Fair point," Alisha acquiesces. But she doesn't let Rose go, instead pressing her fingernail lightly over the same spot on her throat that she just bit into. Rose's breath catches there, and when she swallows, the harmlessly dull edge somehow seems to dig into her skin like a threat.

"Next time, then," Alisha promises, tone so menacing that it makes Rose's toes curl. "I look forward to it."


End file.
